


Give your Ghost

by Bazzle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Sexual Abuse, Sibling Incest, wee!cest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 08:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bazzle/pseuds/Bazzle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For almost as long as Sam can remember, Dean's been doing this... using his body how he wanted but always returning the favor. But when Sam stops to think about it, did he ever really have a say? And if he told Dean that he didn't want this anymore, maybe he never had, would he stop?</p>
<p>Be warned, this is not happy nor is it porn. Dean is clearly suffering from severe guilt that is affecting his mental capacity and Sam is being both emotionally and sexually abused in these circumstances. This is non-con from Sam's perspective with references to the beginning of this 'relationship' when Sam is FAR too young to give consent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give your Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> Originally submitted as a porn donation for someone on tumblr, I realized that this isn't really porn at all. I guess this is more like my attempt at a realistic representation of sibling incest. I don't know about adult incestual relationships, but psychologically there is no healthy way to have an underage sexual relationship between siblings with an age gap as wide as Sam and Dean's, so I went ahead and made it a whole lot less healthy and this is what came from it.
> 
> If you're a regular reader, there is no fluff here! Be warned! This is very different from my usual stuff on here!
> 
> Enjoy? I guess?

“Don’t,” Sam says as Dean plops himself next to him with a glint in his eye, but there’s that waver in Sam’s voice because he’s never sure if Dean will listen.

“Sammy,” Dean complains, running a hand along Sam’s stomach and hiking Sam’s shirt up an inch with the motion.

“I have to do homework,” Sam says, then adds quietly, “And you already... we already...”

“You’re barely in High School Sam, you don’t have to take school that seriously. And besides... that was this morning,” Dean says, rubbing over the exposed skin above Sam’s jeans, tracing his fingers along the band of Sam’s underwear, “Had to have something to think about while I was in school today.”

Sam’s traitorous dick comes to life and Dean sighs like he’s relieved when his hand grazes over the slight bulge in Sam’s pants.

Sam wonders...

“Stop it,” Sam says, and he keeps his voice steady but there’s not as much force behind it as he’d meant.

Dean squeezes his cock through his jeans and leans in to lick a hot stripe from Sam’s jaw to behind his ear. He shudders when Dean pulls at his earlobe with his teeth and the vibration of his zipper being pulled down against his straining dick sends a shock of arousal through him... but he has to know.

“Dean, stop,” Sam says a little too loud.

Dean smirks against his neck, “You don’t mean it.”

The words are like a punch to the gut.

His hand is in Sam’s underwear and Sam feels panicky when his fingers wrap around him, because suddenly the arousal makes him feel nauseous and he _does_ want Dean to stop... not because it doesn’t feel good because Dean has always made him feel good. He wants him to stop because after all these years, this was the first time he had _asked_ Dean to stop. 

He had never, not _once_ , told Dean that he didn’t want this. Not the first time a twelve year old Dean dragged Sam’s body under his own and begged him to be quiet as he humped against him while their father lay passed out one bed over. Not the first time Dean picked the lock and followed Sam into the shower when Sam was eleven, showing him how to make himself feel good.

He had never asked Dean to stop no matter how badly Sam wished he would, and now that he had finally gotten the courage to say it, Dean’s still got this fingers wrapped around him and Sam’s so hard now and he feels completely and utterly without control.

Tears start pricking at his eyes and he tries to speak, tries to open his mouth three times to scream, to beg Dean to _stop_ and he’s about to speak when a hand curves under his back and Dean hauls Sam’s body into his lap, Sam’s ass pressed against the length of Dean’s erection and he doesn’t remember when Dean got his cock out. All Sam can manage is a strangled whimper as Dean drags Sam’s jeans and underwear down, exposing his embarrassingly hard length inch by inch, then pulling Sam by his hips against his naked dick while his jeans are scrunched up halfway down his thighs. 

As many times as Sam has felt dirty or wrong when Dean has had his hands on him or his dick in him, he’s never felt so violated, so used, so helpless. 

And Dean can’t see the tears streaming down Sam’s face at this angle, could mistake the sounds Sam makes as arousal instead of anguish as he drags Sam’s ass against his arousal with a groan of approval, his wet breath on the back of Sam’s neck while his wicked fingers grip Sam’s leaking cock and start a steady rhythm.

“Dean, please stop!” Sam manages to force out, and his voice cuts through the quiet room. He sounds hysterical and his words are thick with tears.

Dean’s motions still completely, immediately, and his grip on Sam’s hips tightens. Sam is off his lap in a second, and he would be embarrassed of how easily Dean can manhandle him if he weren’t so humiliated at being laid out on the couch by his big brother while he’s practically sobbing, his dick still out, but Dean is staring at his face.

“Sammy?” Dean’s hands are on his face and Sam’s heart-rate is slowing down, his brother’s wide concerned eyes assuaging the fear he had felt for a moment. Even after everything between them, Dean was still the only safety that Sam knew.

“Why wouldn’t you just stop,” Sam asks pathetically.

Sam watches something come crashing down behind Dean’s eyes, and there’s a moment when Sam just watches something akin to horror fall across Dean’s face. Dean’s pushed himself three feet away from Sam in a clumsy, rushed motion.

“Didn’t mean to...” Dean mutters, his eyes bright with something like panic but he won’t look at Sam, “I didn’t force you... I didn’t...”

“Dean-”

“I didn’t hurt you, Sammy... I didn’t hurt you, right?” Deans eyes are desperate, manic even as he stares at anything but Sam, “Never hurt you... God, I never meant to hurt you...”

And now Sam is scared because Dean’s breathing too fast and his eyes won’t focus.

“I know,” Sam says hastily, sitting up and reaching towards Dean, “I just wanted-”

Dean looks at him then and flinches at Sam’s hand, pushing himself so that he’s pressed against the opposite armrest of the sofa, staring at Sam panicked. He looks trapped, scared and lost.

“Did I?” and his voice is wrecked, his expression nothing less than devastation, “Did I force you?”

Sam isn’t sure how to answer the question.

It’s true that he didn’t understand what was happening when it started, and how could an eight year old understand consent? But really, Dean didn’t know either. They were so young then and Sam just closed his eyes and tried to breathe as Dean pressed him into motel mattresses, making a mess out of the sheets. And maybe it had taken some persuasion for Sam to put his hands on Dean... but when Dean reciprocated and explained that every time Sam made Dean feel good, Dean could make Sam feel good...

So what if the first time Sam didn’t come dry it was down Dean’s throat? So what if the first time Dean had sex with a girl, he came home and fucked Sam over and over again until the sun came up with only their spit to ease the way?

Did he force him?

_Maybe he did,_ Sam thinks.

_Of course he did_... a voice whispers in the back of Sam’s head, and he’s amazed that the revelation doesn’t come as such a shock. Maybe he’d known since the start.

But Dean’s eyes are afraid and shining with tears, and... and...

“No,” Sam says with a confidence he didn’t know he could fake, “No, Dean, of course not.”

He crawls his way across the couch and Dean still looks so afraid, so ashamed.

“Never?” he asks with a crack in his voice.

_Always,_ the voice whispers, _Every single time._

“Never,” Sam says gently.

He’s between Dean’s legs, and he drops his head to lick a stripe up the underside of Dean’s still-hard length, and the taste brings back the nausea, but the look of relief and reverence in Dean’s gaze when he looks down at Sam is enough.

“I love you so much, Sammy,” Dean says quietly, hand buried in Sam’s hair.

“I know,” Sam says, before relaxing enough so that he can take all of Dean’s length, just like his big brother taught him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope it wasn't too fucked up :/ tell me what you think!
> 
> Title is from a Sufjan Stevens song (To Be Alone With You) which I LOVE and always makes me think of fluffy Wincest. The lyrics are "You gave your body to the lonely, you gave your ghost to be alone with me." NOW IT'S GONNA MAKE ME THINK OF RAPEY WEECEST. Gdangit.


End file.
